


Hands Across the Void

by valderys



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:44:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2817587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valderys/pseuds/valderys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>BLAKE Aquitar. AVON That's right. BLAKE Yes, I worked on that project too. AVON Small world. BLAKE Large project.</p><p>FOSTER They could have killed you. But that would have given the Cause a martyr. So instead they put you into intensive therapy. They erased areas of your mind, they implanted new ideas. They literally took your mind to pieces and rebuilt it. And when they'd finished, they put you up and you confessed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands Across the Void

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smaychel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaychel/gifts).



> Pinch hit over a week or so - I hope it's ok - my Avon voice has always been shaky! :)

>   
>  _BLAKE_   
>  _Aquitar._   
>  _AVON_   
>  _That's right._   
>  _BLAKE_   
>  _Yes, I worked on that project too._   
>  _AVON_   
>  _Small world._   
>  _BLAKE_   
>  _Large project._   
> 

> _FOSTER  
>  They could have killed you. But that would have given the Cause a martyr. So instead they put you into intensive therapy. They erased areas of your mind, they implanted new ideas. They literally took your mind to pieces and rebuilt it. And when they'd finished, they put you up and you confessed._

"I'm Roj Blake," said the man and Avon shook his hand, feeling Blake's palm and fingers for the first time in months - slightly calloused, furnace warm - as though in a dream. Or a nightmare perhaps. Blake's fingers weren't even that warm, Avon realised, it was merely that all the blood had drained from his own extremities. Avon grinned savagely as he realised this was probably the closest he had ever come to fainting in the whole of his life. Well, that wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't give Blake the satisfaction of spitting on his grave, never mind the honour of his unconsciousness through shock. He'd die himself first - and that wasn't going to happen either. Not if he could help it.

***

_"Roj Blake," said the man, holding out his hand in a friendly way. "One of the engineering team on the Aquitar Project, for my sins."_

_Avon restrained himself from curling his lip. After all, he might be forced to work with the man for at least the next few months. He returned the handshake therefore with a cursory, "Kerr Avon." Something to show willing but nothing to encourage closer intimacy._

_"You're a programmer, yes?" Blake looked far too bright and interested._

_"Yes," said Avon and this time there was more bite to it. Something he couldn't help, but men like Blake - people in general really, put his hackles up. He couldn't abide empty small talk._

_Blake chuckled._

_"I can tell," he said and walked away, leaving Avon staring after him, his attention caught, however unwillingly._

_Irritation and intrigue - that was what Avon remembered about his first meeting with Roj Blake. He couldn't say that things changed that much afterwards._

***

"Avon, you've gone white."

Avon realised he was staring, watching Blake's broad back as he walked away. He turned to his companion, Anna Grant, a new hire at the Federation Banking System Central Office, a transfer from Birmingham Dome, and ostensibly his date. He forced a more reassuring smile.

"A sudden dizziness, no more. Perhaps something in the hors d'oeuvres. Or too much soma on an empty stomach."

He shut his mouth with a snap as he realised he was babbling. Sudden shock could do that, he supposed.

The sounds of the cocktail party they were both attending began to assault his ears again, and Avon realised he must be recovering - enough to be annoyed at the inane jabber around him, at least.

"Avon, who was that man?" asked Anna.

She asked it casually, without any particular emphasis but Avon could almost feel his heart beating faster. He'd have to get used to this kind of shock, it seemed, in this brave new world he found himself in.

"Oh, a minor acquaintance - we worked on a project together months ago," Avon lied.

It seemed he'd got better at that of late too.

***

_"Blake, who the hell do you think you are?" asked Avon wildly, as he paced, unable to keep still, jittery with suppressed emotion._

_"I'm just a man who wants freedom to mean more than a piece of empty rhetoric."_

_Blake's voice was calm and deep, it usually slid across Avon's senses like soothing oil. He liked listening to Blake, that was how it had started for him. The attraction. The inexplicable tug that had caused him to end up here, finally, in Blake's tiny flat. Which was after myriad meetings for work - Aquitar and matter transmission were proving recalcitrant - followed eventually by casual invites for koffi that were accepted, dozens of conversations that ended in arguements, more often than not, and yet, still, even after all of that, Avon ended up here, listening to this dangerously ridiculous sedition. Freedom, for goodness sake. What was Blake_ **thinking** _?_

_"You're an engineer, not a politician, and a second rate one at that," Avon snapped, unable to help himself._

_Blake looked away and Avon suppressed a wince. Dammit._

_Then Blake reached across the space between them, never very large in his flat, and tugged him down to the couch beside him. His hand, larger and more calloused than Avon's, caressed his knuckles, until Avon was forced, almost against his will, to relax his clenched fists. But he fought the urge to lean in - Blake's warmth and bulk was another thing that always appealed to him, that he was trying to rise above. He was angry, dammit. Why did Blake always do this to him?_

_"It's just a meeting," said Blake, reasonably. Avon hated it. "We talk about things we could change for the better, that's all. Please come. I want you to."_

_And I want you, Avon thought, bitterly. Knowing his resolve would crumble in the face of Blake's certainty. As it always did, even in their worst arguements. Knowing he'd go, eventually._

_Knowing he'd regret it._

***

"I think I know who he is," said Anna, her voice lowering, as though conveying a secret. Avon leaned in, involuntarily, and found himself hovering over her petite form, almost protectively. It was an odd contrast, after...

"Blake. He's Roj Blake. The leader of the Freedom Party. Don't you remember, Avon? It was on all the viscasts - he renounced his dissident activities, claimed he'd been misguided in his political views." Anna spoke quietly - it didn't do to talk about dissident activities in front of just anyone, even if she wasn't supporting them.

"I remember," Avon said, lips numb, trying to act as though it was the most boring subject in the world, even though the last thing he wanted to do was talk about it.

She looked up at him through her lashes, a pretty girl inviting him to share confidences. He felt a pang, at the normality of it, perhaps. At the possibilities - in another life.

"I wonder what he's doing here," said Anna.

***

_"You lied to me, Blake!" Avon was seething, too angry this time to even shout, instead spitting the words through clenched teeth. Not to mention that he refused to let Blake's paltry rebels have the satisfaction of hearing them air their private concerns in public._

_"Avon, you don't understand! I set all this up!"_

_"Yes, I see that. But that's hardly the point. What you neglected to tell_ **me** _was that you were the leader of this misguided bunch of would-be rebels. Their leader, Blake! That's not just casually coming to a meeting with you, that involves my going along with this farce only to discover that I'm somehow the honorary number two in your stupid, pointless hierarchy! All without my knowledge!"_

_He paused for breath, the frustration rolling over him in waves, as Blake observed him calmly, obviously waiting him out._

_"You can't keep me in the dark like this," he finished at last, and only the most iron control stopped the request becoming a whine or a snarl. He refused to become the child in this relationship._

_Blake looked round at the misfit rabble surrounding them. He looked proud of them, which confused Avon even more._

_"We have the beginnings of an army here, you know. And all of it pointless if you're not here to lead it with me," said Blake, finally, heavily. He drew Avon closer, slinging an arm around his shoulder when Avon mutely resisted. "Avon..."_

_Avon shivered, as though someone was walking over his grave. What did he know about leading an army? What did_ **Blake** _know? And wasn't that the point?_

***

"My name is Anna Grant, and this is Kerr Avon," said Anna brightly, as she held her hand out to him.

Avon had failed to think of a plausible reason why they shouldn't trail around the party until they 'accidentally' ran into Blake again, and so he was stuck there in possibly the last place he would choose to be. He was more in control now, at least.

He had the leisure to observe Blake this time, as Anna made small talk, more competently than he could manage even on his best days. Blake was looking completely normal, although maybe a little puffier around the eyes and the corners of his jaw. Avon could feel the seething anger rising up again from the pit of his stomach - how dare he be so unconcerned, so unaffected? When everything had changed.

It was work of but a second to tip Anna's elbow so her glass spilt soma over the hem of her dress. He was all apologies as she rushed off to the bathroom to dab off what she could. Her glance at him was dark and promising, he'd pay for it later, he realised, in some unspecified way. But it was worth it, for a moment or two alone with Blake.

They stared at each other, Blake looking somewhat bemused, before Avon couldn't take it any longer.

"How long are you going to continue this farce, Blake?" he hissed, "I don't know what bargain they struck with you to get you to change your political views so completely, but this is me. Avon. You know I never cared about any of that. I just want to know why you're pretending you don't know who I am - is it some misguided attempt to protect me?"

Blake looked quizzical at that before answering him mildly. "I'm sorry, but there must be some mistake. I've never seen you before this evening."

Avon felt as though he was reeling, as he regarded Blake in horror. Another pillar of his existence being knocked away. He didn't think Blake was lying - he'd always been terrible at that. Avon had trusted him, loved him even, insofar as he believed himself capable of love. What had they done to him that he didn't even remember...?

"But I'm Avon, your..."

"Who?" said Blake.

***

_There was a knock on the door. Avon started, because he couldn't help himself, he was always uneasy on the nights that Blake was at meetings. He told himself it was stupid, that Blake was careful, that Foster was clever, that Blake's people would protect him. He knew he was lying to himself._

_Avon opened to door to see the pinched, pale features of Dev Tarrant. The man grimaced and Avon knew. It was over. It was all over. He wondered distantly when they would be coming for him too._

_"How bad?" he asked, finally._

_"There was a raid by Federation troopers. We checked and checked the sub-basement - we had watched it for 24 hours and no-one came near. But they'd been there all along. Hiding. Blake tried to surrender, to save people, but they opened fire anyway. Butchers. I was lucky to get away. They took Blake prisoner though..."_

_Tarrant trailed off, wincing, and Avon realised he was limping, that there was a rough blood-stained bandage wrapped around his leg. Tarrant shrugged. "I have to go. Good luck, Avon. There's a good chance they won't even know you were involved. But I had to let you know..."_

_They clasped hands briefly before Tarrant disappeared into the night._

_Avon shut the door, feeling numb. A chance. But Blake was arrested - how long would it be before he spilled all he knew? Before he was tortured and killed? Oh, Blake..._

_How long before he'd have to run?_

***

"Well, that was interesting, don't you think?" said Anna, back at his side again.

Avon nodded, realising that with everything else like shifting sand beneath his feet, Anna was a tiny petite rock. Someone who, he discovered, could stand between him and the world. It seemed an odd revelation to have at a party.

"I wanted to see what was left - how well the cracks were papered over. It's horrible, of course, but they did a brilliant job - you can't deny that."

Her voice was contemplative, even as Avon gave her a sharp glance.

"What do you mean?" he said, and for a moment, he could hear a hint of the pain and confusion and anger he was feeling. He took a sip from his glass to cover himself, horrified at his lack of control.

She leaned in to whisper in his ear. "My brother, Del, works in Space Command, he's told me how these things work. They can literally take a man's mind apart and put it together the way they want. They can erase memories, create new ones, even. Blake wouldn't have stood a chance."

She shuddered slightly, like the thought was horrifying but still fascinating at the same time.

"The man we just met could have been anyone - before."

"Anyone..." echoed Avon, thinking about guileless brown eyes, blank with unrecognition. 

Thinking about Blake's laugh and his stubbornness and the heat and warmth of him. Thinking about how all of that was gone now. 

He only had himself to consider. Avon took a careful breath and let it out again. Well then.

It was time to run.


End file.
